


Reputation

by jkateel



Series: Fugitives Together [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Implied Hawke/Fenris and Hawke/Anders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkateel/pseuds/jkateel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It really does pay to have a reputation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reputation

**Author's Note:**

> This is going off a play where you don’t choose to be in the Red Iron. (Warning for some slight homophobia too.)

“You’re the Ferelden,” the man in the hood says, as if covering his face hides his smooth skin or even the expensive-smelling cologne he’s wearing. His mannerisms give him away more than anything — he was too careful as he navigated his way through drunken singing and brawling toward the table. Garrett can peg a wealthy noble from a mile away just by that alone — but knows he isn’t a powerful one. Rare is the noble that has to make a personal trip to the Hanged Man to see him instead of sending an emissary of some sort. “I hear you can get things done…  _discreetly_.”

It really does pay to have a reputation, Garrett thinks as he glances over to where Carver is playing cards with Varric and the others. They’re too deep into their game to notice Garrett’s guest at his table. “That’s one way of putting it,” he says when he looks back, baring his teeth in his most charming grin. “But yes, I can get things done.”

He knows what the noble wants even before he slides the note over. He already knows he won’t spare a thought for whomever the person is, or why this noble wants him gone. (He already knows the answer is politics.) The coin on offer is too much to pass up — it’ll keep the family fed for a few weeks, and there will even be enough left over to put toward the expedition. There’s an advantage of doing a job for the nobility too, even one low on the food chain as this one. The Templars are more likely to turn their gaze away if he has a noble’s favor, something he crucially needs. Favor has always saved him before; who knows how many times it saved his arse in Lothering, the Templars never thinking much of that Hawke boy who was good with his hands, and loved by the town for it.

Sometimes Garrett wishes he was that boy still, his reputation born out of a talent for building fences, and fixing broken wheelbarrows.

“Would the Circle be so bad?” Fenris had asked him once while they had been out on night patrol, hunting for those troublesome gangs. They weren’t having any luck, and so late at night, it seemed inevitable their conversations would eventually steer toward such topics.

“Even if it wasn’t,” Garrett had joked, “I’d go mad within a week. Have you seen what mages have to wear? These legs demand trousers, not pastel purple skirts. Not to say I couldn’t pull it off—”

Fenris had rolled his eyes. “This place,” he had said after a moment, “It is a breeding ground for the desperate and downcast — all things demons prey on.”

Perhaps because it had been so late at night, Garrett had given into the briefest flash of anger. “There are plenty of ways to sell your soul, Fenris. Most of the time, you don’t even need a demon around to do it.”

After the deal between him and the noble is made, Garrett goes over to Carver; puts a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “I have to go,” he explains. “Don’t wait up.”

His brother sneers. Carver probably thinks he’s off to go flirt with Anders or Fenris again. Garrett doesn’t dissuade him of that thought, giving him a leer in reply. Carver scoffs, looks away. “You’re going to give yourself a reputation, brother,” he mutters, and then glares at him. “One I'd rather not be associated with, by the way.”

“Don’t worry,” Garrett promises, and means it. “You never will be.”


End file.
